


Comfortable Silence

by MayorMimi



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Bonding, Cafe Leblanc (Persona 5), Cake, Coffee, Comfort Food, Fluff, Gen, Loneliness, Pancakes, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Teasing, male-male friendship, stray cats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:27:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22200307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayorMimi/pseuds/MayorMimi
Summary: Akechi's self-consciousness is breaking him. As bright as the detective might be, he doesn't seem to understand Akira's here to pull him back to reality.
Relationships: Akechi Goro & Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro & Kurusu Akira
Comments: 5
Kudos: 34





	Comfortable Silence

The green tea burnt Akechi's tongue. Before the cup upset itself onto his papers, Goro hissed and set it down in shock. It was a less than graceful gesture coming from him, but Sunday mornings were sacred in the sense that it was the only morning of the week he spent alone in his dark, cramped apartment. Waiting for his drink to cool, the young man spread almond butter onto a brittle slice of whole-grain toast while searching for the line he stopped at. The open sandwich was a pleasant change from the bare oatmeal he had on weekdays.

Akechi’s chewing filled the silence of the room, in addition to cautious sips at intervals and the occasional page-turning. Now and then, Goro’s eyes drifted idly to the white wall a few feet away from him before they rolled back down. All it bore was a mirror, carrying a reflection that kept him company. No calls, no texts, nothing--not that he expected any at five in the morning. It’s not like Akechi was hoping for a conversation, anyway. 

At an arm’s length away buzzed his cell phone, once. He nearly jumped out of his skin at the abruptly broken silence, and his hand darted to snatch the phone. It was a text from Sae-san. “That’s someone,” Goro reasoned before his thumb swiped at the screen. Immediately, a display of chiefly messages from him and little from his co-worker greeted Akechi.

“How’s the report?”

“Editing, currently.” He waited, finishing his toast and tea.

Akechi’s message had been read, and that was that. The detective took it as an indication she expected his work the next morning, so he ought to have picked up the pace on his reading--as any dutiful young man would. Instead, Akechi leaned back with another bite from his hard toast and wondered. _Was Sae-san’s sister up at this hour as well? What’re they having for breakfast?_

 _Whatever it is, it’s coming with a lot of coffee,_ was the answer he settled on. _How dehydrating—dry skin will find her if she isn’t careful. And Kurusu...is sleeping in, knowing him. Sloth-like much?_ Akechi pushed himself from the table and brought his phone with him; idleness wasn’t a habit he planned to adopt soon either lest he should wind up like Akira.

Settling his phone on the counter of the small bathroom as it played back an episode from an architectural podcast and pinning his fringe up, Akechi reached for a gel cleanser and tried--as well as he could--to steer away from scrubbing too roughly. He noted that his bottle of toner was nearly empty, the way he did the previous night before forgetting. Warming a serum between his hands then patting it into his face, Akechi wondered if he was looking a bit pale these days. Maybe even dull. Then, he wondered how many people at work noticed the sorry state of his complexion before he did.

As Goro dipped his fingers into a cream jar that smelt of white musk and warm spices, he drew a sharp inhale. Akechi concluded he had to stop fussing over his skin one of these days before he immediately cursed at the sight of yet another tiny blemish on his forehead. “Must be the stress. Or the shortcake I had last month.”

Akechi left his bathroom, taken aback by the sunlight so suddenly leaking into his living room. He hurried to the light switch by the window, flicking it off and peeking outside. The sky had been a watercolor mix of rose and slate blue, but Akechi tore his eyes away before the view fully mesmerized him. Papers to be read, work to be done, productive morning to be seized. He fumbled with the clip clasping his hair from his head, sighing through his nose.

After hours of scanning dry text and spotlighting less-than-perfect phrases with an incriminating red, Akechi stretched his arms over his head. Kurusu had to be up at that time, there was no denying that. The detective knew his so-called friend helped around Leblanc and, considering the fact that the cafe was open at that moment, was likely brewing coffee for good-humored regulars while Akechi was confined to his apartment until he’s through with his report. On second thought, _confined_ sounded like a juvenile way to put it. What better way to spend a Sunday morning than attending to one’s responsibilities like any dependable young man ought to?

But perhaps, he realized as he rose from his chair, a cup of coffee would boost his productivity. On his way to his room for a change of clothes, Akechi wondered if he ought to bring his report to read on the way. Then Goro disputed while he straightened his tie that he could just pick a cup up to-go and head straight home, no? The report wouldn’t be necessary. Akechi paused in front of his bathroom on his way out; perhaps his complexion, on the other hand, could use a bit of tinted moisturizer.

Nevertheless, Akechi had his trusted briefcase by his side when he left the building, in which sat a bento box of chestnut rice and a salt-pickled plum--should Goro be out late--though he chiefly anticipated the broiled salmon. There didn’t seem to be anything that could slow the detective down in his tracks until a raspy whine intruded on his train of thought. Akechi paused and searched the street behind him for the source of the interruption before his eyes fell on a snowshoe cat. It meowed once more when Akechi crouched down. After a still moment, she sauntered towards Goro until her chin nearly came into contact with his knees.

“Are you alone, too?” The detective deduced as he scratched behind its ear. “I don’t have any cat food on me, sorry.” As it shoved its head into the palm of Akechi’s hand, his eyes fell on his briefcase. He paused, almost considering.

“No, no, Akechi echoed. “Never mind, it wouldn’t do for me to feed a stray—no matter _whose_ food I’m offering.” The latter came with a stern look at the cat for emphasis, broken swiftly by the cat's head tilting to deliver its target a darling look. “...Oh, perhaps a bit couldn’t hurt.”

Goro reached into his briefcase and extracted a bento, popping the lid open and snatching up a slice of broiled salmon between chopsticks. The young man immediately dropped it when the cat hopped and nearly clawed his wrist. Kitty shredded the fish with her fangs, scarfing the food down as she purred in a way that made Akechi’s heart clench. He couldn’t keep himself from dropping another, followed by a third until half his lunch turned into the stray’s meal. The detective didn’t mind, he only watched with his elbows against his knees and his chin in his hands.

Goro was somewhat conscious of the ridiculous grin he wore, but most of his attention went towards his new companion. A few moments rolled by of pure bliss and nothing but until the kitten’s confederate caught the sound of stilettos against cement. Not unlike a cat, Akechi straightened himself stiffly and discerned a businesswoman heading his way, turned to find the cat had still been busy with food that had clearly belonged to the renowned detective, and his cheeks reddened. He sprang to his feet and crammed his bento box back into his suitcase, walking hurriedly in an effort to seem too occupied to have been the fool who gave up the highlight of his lunch for a stray. The young woman, busy with a phone call, didn’t seem to care.

The exterior of _Leblanc_ suggested emptiness, which was precisely the word to describe its interior. Akechi nevertheless took a seat since it was the middle of the day and the café owner was sure to appear any second; the jazz music overhead implied as much, at least. First, Goro produced a book titled _Organic Chemistry as a Second Language_ bearing a bookmark in the center. Recalling he was alone, the boy deposited it for a French children’s novella--his only source of comfort when he was nothing more than an unwanted lovechild in his neighborhood's modest library. Akechi flipped to the latter half where a crumpled receipt identified the page, and he lost himself in reading.

“ _Le Petit Prince_ ,” observed a voice that was masculine, but not nearly deep enough to be the curmudgeon that owned the café. “Classic.”

“Kurusu.” Akira appeared just as the saxophones picked up, in an almost theatrical and all-too-convenient manner. Akechi snapped the book shut and attempted to uselessly conceal it under the counter while plastering the most convincing smile of nonchalance Goro could manage. The young man went on, “Pardon me, I didn’t see you there.”

“The usual, I presume?” Kurusu’s shirtsleeves were rolled up and the top buttons of his shirt had been undone, but not enough for Akechi to remark on it. Only for him to observe and deem unprofessional. 

“To-go, please.” 

“Oh?’ His tone reminded Akechi of the smart-alecky caterpillar in a certain work of Lewis Carroll. “What's the hurry?”

“Papers to be read, you know how it is.” Akechi felt well aware Akira didn’t know how it was. That wasn’t any of his business, though.

Akira himself shrugged a shoulder, a movement repeated many times in the reflections of the glass cabinets behind him. “What’s the harm in staying?” Goro didn’t seem convinced. “The first unspoken rule here is forgetting work once you take a seat. Otherwise, I might have to send you out without your coffee.” 

“I guess it won’t hurt to stick around.” Supposing he could afford to humor his barista for a bit, the customer tried to discreetly swap his books. Morgana appeared, stretching on the counter like he didn’t have a care in the world and becoming the target of Akechi’s envy. The cat noticed the addition to the café and his whiskers stood stiffly. Goro held an inviting hand out if it might want to be pet, which only triggered Morgana to dart off towards Akira. Kurusu smiled but otherwise ignored Morgana, thinking the cat knew better than to pounce onto anybody holding a pot of fresh coffee. He tipped it into his customer’s cup, then set the pot down to reach for the sugar. “I won’t have any.”

“Thought you said you wanted the usual?”

“It is, _sans_ sugar. Consider this _‘the usual’_ from now on, I guess.”

“Funny coming from someone who’d never have less than two lumps.” Goro didn’t hear this, too occupied with watching Morgana. “Fond of cats, are you?”

“Me?” Akechi tensed. _Mona isn’t the only feline here_ , he thought, regarding Akira’s keen eyes and the way his midnight hair stuck out like cat ears.

Akira presented him with the cup. “No, I was asking my cat if he was fond of cats.”

“Touché. Still corny, though.”

“So what’s the verdict?”

“I can take them or leave ‘em.”

“You don’t own any, then?”

“No, though I crossed paths with one this morning.” Akechi produced his phone and presented a photo of his new playmate to Kurusu. He adjusted his glasses and held the phone for a closer look. “A stunning pair of green eyes if I’ve ever seen one.”

“No kidding. Should I swipe?”

“Mm. Isn’t she darling? I would’ve taken her home in a heartbeat, but—” Akira drowned his friend out as he continued to swipe through countless near-identical photos. Never mind, there was also a video.

The barista chuckled. “Huh, you sure took a lot.”

“Ah.” Goro’s voice fell. “Sorry, I guess it’s just been a slow day, so I just got worked up over—”

“Better than paperwork. Right?” Akira returned the phone. Akechi cleared his throat while trying to invent a clever response and came up with nothing. It didn’t matter when his friend disappeared into the kitchen again.

Akechi returned to reading, ignoring the smells and curious sounds suggestive of cooking drifting in from where Akira stood. “Be sure to drink it while it’s hot,” Kurusu advised aloud. A smirk curled Goro’s lips. The detective was too clever to take the wisecracker’s potential bait; his mishap with green tea that morning taught him as much. Was Akira that determined to catch Akechi off-guard?

Nevertheless, the contents of the cup had eventually been reduced to brown stains and Akechi found himself fishing his wallet for the ever-elusive 100 yen coins. He lifted a few in the fork of his fingers, left them on the counter, and the process was interrupted by the presence of three chewy pancakes stacked on a plate in Akira’s hand. They were caked with whipped cream and drizzled in chocolate sauce—a sight that might’ve nauseated anybody who wasn’t Goro. “What’s this?”

“A sloppy stack of butter babies—”

“Please don’t call them that.”

“—on the house is what it is.” Kurusu kept an eye on the vanilla gelato carefully balanced on top until he set it down before Akechi. His glasses catching the lamp’s light concealed his eyes, not unlike a mask, making the detective wonder if Akira was watching him and could see the conflict on his face.

Some of his conversations were as unnerving as they were irritating when Goro's unease got the better of him and the voice in his head began to narrate the internal monologue of anyone who wasn't himself. _Your perfect pretense can’t hide your greatest fear from me,_ Akira's know-it-all smirk would say, _You only hide from opportunities for imperfection—the possibility of a slip-up—that paralyzing moment when (God forbid) you almost seem human. Nobody asked you to play the role of the divine figure, Mr. Beau Brummell. You’re more of a mere stray I generously feed._

“Oh, I couldn’t.”

“Too late, what’s cooked is cooked. I wouldn’t mind eating it if you didn’t—but then, wouldn’t that be pointless?”

“You’re welcome to have it.” Akechi already had his dessert for this month. Grapefruit cake ought to have been enough.

Akira cocked his head back. “Your choice. It’ll just stick around in case you...change your mind. I’m taking a bathroom break.” He untied his apron and loosely folded it over the counter. 

Akechi peered around. “Is there no one to cover for you in case you take a whi—”

“Morgana, be a good boy and lemme know if anyone else shows up.” Kurusu vanished behind the restroom door. Akechi scanned the café once more as if somebody could’ve been hiding under tables or behind the potted plants, ready to watch him eat his words. Finally, he considered the scoop of ice cream that had grown a bit runny.

“It’d be a waste to kick back and watch it dissolve, wouldn’t it?” Perhaps he could just save the gelato from being squandered and leave the rest of the sugar-coated mess for his friend. Akira’ll understand, surely. Akechi lifted a teaspoon by his cup and began to scoop the icy dessert up, bit by bit, and the fractions glistened a fresh white under the ceiling light. Goro supposed he might also have the velvety cream with the scoop, too.

A boyish chuckle interrupted Akechi. It took him a second to confirm that only Morgana was in his presence, so the child’s voice was surely in his head. Goro did note that Morgana looked rather amused himself, but that could also be chalked up to his paranoia. As for the pancakes...Well, if the first pancake was stained by the ice cream, he may as well have that one.

Akechi was too preoccupied to notice Mona bound off the counter and saunter towards the bathroom door, clawing at it. 

Akira avoided hitting Mona while surfacing from the restroom. He felt satisfied to find Goro with his tie loosened and elbows propped on the counter before a clean plate, chocolate smudging the corner of his content smile as he read _Le Petit Prince._

Kurusu didn’t say anything about Akechi overstaying his welcome.

Akechi—in turn—appreciated Akira’s company in comfortable silence.

**Author's Note:**

> Not satisfied with this but it was about time I posted it. Time to project social anxiety onto favorite characters again.


End file.
